


Fucking in the Age of Loneliness

by smooth_operaptor



Series: Fucking in the Age of Loneliness [1]
Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Edging, Friends With Benefits, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smooth_operaptor/pseuds/smooth_operaptor
Summary: Covid is a huge boner killer but sometimes your homie asks you to fuck him again and who is Chuck to deny him?(Takes place after the Orange Cassidy vs. Rey Fenix match on Dynamite 5/20/20)
Relationships: Orange Cassidy/Chuck Taylor
Series: Fucking in the Age of Loneliness [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052237
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	Fucking in the Age of Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

> Look. Seeing oc destroyed in the ring activates my c*mbrain.  
> [He has fantastic handprints on his chest in his match against Rey Fenix.](https://mith-gifs-wrestling.tumblr.com/post/619019934711857152/)  
> This is my first time writing smut, tell me if my pacing is wack or whatever.

Orange is so light in their arms when they help him backstage. He got absolutely destroyed out there, but Chuck and Trent are strong enough to carry his dead weight. They reach their locker room and let him sit on a bench. Trent gently feels Orange’s neck and shoulders.

“So how’re you feeling?” he asks him finally.

“Yeah man, those guys didn’t catch you for _shit_ ,” Chuck adds. They both kinda loom over Orange, standing like this, so Chuck moves to sit by his side.  
Orange stays quiet for a few moments, until he clears his throat and sighs. He starts moving one shoulder in small circles and reaches around with the other hand to massage the muscles lightly.

“Could’ve landed worse. I’ll be fine for the next match.” He slumps against Chuck’s side, who eyes him up and down. His chest is blushed and sweaty, but other than that, no obvious injuries. Chuck is caught by the contrast of the still-visible handprints on his skin and almost reaches out to lay his own hand on them. That would be weird, though. Right? He catches himself and just pats his pec in assurance, wipes the hand on Orange’s jeans, and stands up again. Orange gives him a look through half-lidded eyes that he can’t quite read. Chuck smiles back at him, tries to move on from this moment.

“Sooo, wanna find Jess or someone while he cleans up and maybe shoot some promos?”

Trent puts his phone back in his pocket and shrugs, “Yeah, I got things to say to that Pac bastard and his little lucha friends.” He offers Orange a hand to pull him up again.

  


* * *

  


They finished Dynamite for the night, but they’ve still got a last Dark match to do. The arena is too quiet and feels lit too bright against the night sky to the side.

While Trent is in the ring, he sits down next to Orange on the stairs of the entrance ramp. His thigh is small and warm against his own. He turns to Orange, who grins and slowly licks his bottom lip. This is fucking unfair. 

“What game are you playing at here?”

“Whatever works.”

“Well, can you /maybe/ fucking stop?” he laughs, “I’m supposed to focus on wrestling right now.”

Those were the wrong words, because somehow then and there Bryce realizes he’s taking a break and gesticulates for him to hurry back to the ring post.

“Then make me,” is the last thing Chuck hears from Orange, and suddenly he is very thankful that he can wrestle a tag match in his sleep, because he definitely can’t concentrate after that.

(And if he grips Orange’s wrist a little harder than usual to raise their arms after the win, his thumb over the pulse point, then it’s certainly worth it for the split second of _hunger_ that replaces the playful smile on Orange’s face.)

  


* * *

  


Trent’s flight leaves soon, later that night, and before he gets in his car he looks between them intently and nods finally.

“Have fun you two, see you Saturday.” He drives off into the night.

Immediately the tension ratchets up a few notches. They have mediocre booze waiting for them in a cheap hotel room and a flight back to Philly together tomorrow morning. Usually they’d just get drunk and argue over what to watch together, but– 

He glances at Orange at his side, breath shallow all of a sudden.

They don’t _do_ this, anymore. The pandemic has been a huge mood killer for Chuck. He’s certain though that it’s been no hinderance to Orange. People would probably line up to give him what Chuck won’t. Of course they _shouldn’t_ , because of the pandemic. Of _course_.

Before he can dig himself deeper into this weird little hole (stop it, not now), his attention snaps back to Orange. The way he slowly combs his finger through his hair. Half nervous habit, half enticing gesture. Alright. Chuck sets down his bag and steps in front of him. When he reaches out and tips up his head, Orange’s breath hitches audibly but tries to cut it off by biting his lip.

“Can I?” he asks Orange quietly and gets a quick nod in response.

He bends down a little to kiss Orange, who meets him halfway, standing on his tiptoes and steadying himself with both his hands on Chuck’s chest. In response, his other arm snakes possessively around his waist and pulls him even closer. As he licks over Orange’s bottom lip and breathes in the faint smell of hair gel he is hit by how familiar and how _good_ this fucking feels.

Shit, he’s missed this.

He deepens the kiss and feels Orange moan against him. His dick, free from being smushed down by his tights, betrays his excitement immediately. Orange makes a little noise against him and pulls away enough to lower his sunglasses and look him in the eyes again. 

“Get me to the hotel,” Orange says with a rasp in his voice.

  


* * *

  


Chuck is fiddling with the keycard to their room and the anticipation is making his hands shake. He feels a sharp tingle in the back of his skull, where he knows Orange is staring at him.

Okay. Door’s open.

He pushes in and doesn’t pay much attention where he throws his luggage. His mouth is dry and he turns around to see Orange standing in the entryway. The door clicks shut behind him. Orange lets his bag fall out of his hand. He nudges it out of the way with his foot. 

Chuck stares at him and thinks about how much he just wants to rip off his clothes and fuck him into oblivion. That’s a thing you can just do with your good friend/former fuckbuddy, right? He balls his hand into a fist, stretches it out and swallows.

“Sooo, what’d you have in mind?”

Orange takes off his glasses, carefully folds them and sets them down on the table. He slips off his shoes and socks. When he steps closer, Chuck can see just how blown wide his pupils are. Still, he’s taking his sweet time answering. Right now, he would settle for a quick desperate hand job, if Orange can’t decide.

“… Use me.”

“You sure?”

Orange snorts and smiles.

“Yeah man, top me, dom me, whatever. I’m just gonna let you do all the work.”

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

They grin, and each surge forward into a hungry kiss. Chuck bites at Orange’s bottom lip, licks into his mouth, _tastes_ him. Their hands are roaming over each other and Chuck shimmies off Orange’s jean jacket. Orange tries to cradle his jaw and deepen the kiss further but Chuck bats his hands away. He grabs a fistful of hair, gently, until Orange disconnects with an ecstatic sigh.

“Tell me if I go too far?”

Orange catches his breath before he answers.

“You won’t hurt me.”

Chuck stares at him.

“Fine, you’re right, I’ll say something or tap out if it gets too much,” Orange says, “Just… don’t hold back.”

 _Jesus_. His hard-on is back with a vengeance. And now he can just… take what he wants. Right.

“Take your shirt off for me.”

Orange raises an eyebrow but starts pulling his t-shirt over his head. Teasingly slow. Chuck tuts.

“Faster,” he orders him and eventually yanks the shirt off of his arms and throws it near the bed. Orange watches him silently and slowly lets his arms fall to his sides. Chuck steps closer and carefully grabs his hair again. He pulls him forward and claims him in a last kiss, before he guides Orange to kneel in front of him. They keep eye contact the whole way down.

“Fuck,” Chuck murmurs and releases his grip, “you’re real pretty like this.” He pets his cheek with the backs of his fingers then undoes his fly and pulls himself out.

“Put your hands behind your b- no, put your hands in your pockets,” he orders him and Orange complies.

One hand cradles Orange’s cheek, with the other he gives his dick a couple of tentative strokes. He’s not going to last long. He uses the hand on Orange’s cheek to nudge his mouth open and guides the tip of his cock in front of his face. Orange licks his lips.

“Suck my dick, Orange. Show me how much you want me to fuck you.”

Orange starts slow, mouthing at the head, kissing along the shaft, before swirling his tongue over the tip again and lapping up the first few drops of pre-come. The he finally takes Chuck deeper and starts licking the vein on the underside. Chuck settles his hands on his shoulders and watches him take his length. Once he is completely buried in Orange’s throat, he waits for him to take a few deep hot breaths through his nose and then he taps the underside of his jaw to get eye-contact again.

He moves his hands up until he is holding Orange’s head on both sides. He pulls back an inch and then sinks back in again. While studying his reaction, he slowly increases his tempo. Orange’s mouth is beautiful and warm and wet around him and he feels his first orgasm fast approaching. He snaps his hips forward with an unsteady rhythm and pulls Orange’s head the rest of the way. They shouldn’t have waited to do this so long.

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” he tells Orange, who hums around him. Which feels fucking dope. He shoves his cock as deep as it will go and finally comes down his throat. He holds still for a couple of seconds and then he pulls out. Orange is panting and a slow trail of come and saliva is running down the corner of his mouth. Chuck catches it with his thumb and pushes it back over Orange’s lips.

“Oh you were so close! Shame that you missed a bit. Here, lick it off again.”

Orange’s eyes flicker back and forth between Chuck’s and his thumb. He leans forward and laves the finger with a few enthusiastic strokes of his tongue. Chuck lets out a short laugh and tucks himself back into his pants. Then he bends down and kisses Orange again.

“I wanna hear you thank me,” he says in a low tone next to Orange’s ear and stands back up again. He looks absolutely delightful, kneeling there in front of him. His hair is disheveled, his lips are pink and slightly swollen and there’s an obvious tent in his pants. Chuck’s dick is definitely getting interested again.

“I- thank you,” Orange manages. His voice is shot and Chuck can’t get enough of it.

“For?” he teases him on.

“For letting me blow you,” Orange finishes.

Chuck leans down and grabs Orange under his shoulders and hoists him up, who immediately slings his legs around his waist. Chuck grins at him and kisses first his mouth, then along his jaw, until he whispers in his ear, “You can take your hands out of your pockets now.”

Orange obliges and curls his arms around Chuck’s neck. He starts kissing it, trying to find his pulse point. Chuck allows it while he steps around a backpack and carries him to the bed.

There, he slips on arm under Orange’s thigh and arm and pushes him onto the mattress. He bounces once and exhales sharply on impact. Chuck takes off his shirt and kicks off his shoes and considers Orange for a moment, who sits up slightly to return the look. Chuck puts the shirt on the table and walks over to the side of the bed.

He spreads Orange’s thighs and kneels between them. He leans in close and kisses him deeply, savoring the taste of Orange once more. Then, he forces him to lie back on the mattress by pushing him slowly down with one hand on his chest. He enjoys how small Orange looks, trapped under him.

The handprints are gone now too, Chuck notes with possessive glee. He strokes his pec and thumbs over his nipple. Orange hums appreciatively.

“Mark me,” Orange moans, “Please.”

Chuck has to suppress a shudder. He bends down again and latches onto the base of his neck, the point where it connects to the shoulder. He sucks on the skin lightly and gives it a quick kiss. No, he’s not gonna give Orange visible hickeys when he has a PPV match in a few days. He looks up at Orange, who looks back with half-lidded eyes, and grins against his skin.

He starts making his way down Orange’s chest, sucking a trail of pink spots into it. He is very satisfied with how long they stay there. When he reaches Orange’s waistband, he sits up and grabs his hips. He moves a hand to cup him through his pants and is rewarded with a stunning moan. He opens the fly and slides his pants and underwear off in a smooth motion. Orange’s dick flops onto his stomach. Chuck ghosts his hand over it and then swiftly moves to pin down Orange’s hands at his sides when he starts flailing helplessly. They make eye contact.

“Put your hands behind your head. You don’t get to touch yourself.”

Orange keens but does as he’s told.

Chuck breathes in deeply. He runs his hands down Orange’s sides to his hips. He feels hot under his touch. With his right hand he begins rubbing small circles at a spot where his thigh connects to his hip.

“I think this is where I’m gonna mark you. Hundreds of thousands of people are gonna see you on Saturday, but only you and I will know it’s there.”

“Shit, Chuck, do it,” Orange whispers.

Chuck smirks at him. He lies down between his legs and begins kissing the spot. He takes his time alternating between sucking the skin and biting it, teasing it and soothing over it with his tongue. He listens to Orange’s breathing getting heavier. He considers his handiwork after a while. The mark is showing red and purple on his smooth skin. He leans down one last time to suck on it, but sneaks his hand over to Orange’s cock and strokes it one, two times. Orange arches of the bed with a wail, but Chuck encircles the base of his dick and squeezes before he can come. He disconnects with a wet pop from Orange’s skin and tuts at him.

“I’m not gonna let you come this soon. You have to _earn_ that shit.”

Orange looks like he wants to roll his eyes but settles on squeezing them tight in frustration. He doesn’t complain though, just nods once.

His mouth is lax and Chuck feels his breath and hot pants on his face when he moves up again. He still has his eyes closed.

“Hey, look at me.”

Orange looks at him with half-lidded eyes, a blush high on his cheeks, and he looks devastatingly delicious. Chuck smiles and quickly kisses him.

“I’m gonna get the lube, stay like this.”

He quickly moves off the bed and searches his discarded bag. Thank god there’s a bottle of lube left. He throws it onto the bed next to Orange and takes off his pants and socks. His cock is half-hard again.

“Do you want me to use a condom?” he asks and Orange shakes his head.

He kneels on the bed again and nudges Orange’s legs further apart. He takes a pillow and sets it under Orange’s ass to give himself a better angle to work with. He grabs the bottle of lube and squirts some onto his fingers. He spreads it around and then touches Orange’s entrance. He bucks his hips in response, so Chuck puts his left hand on his abdomen to keep him down. The lube might be a little bit too cold still. Oops.

He teases his index finger in and Orange takes it easily. Soon he adds a second and starts scissoring him open. He curls his finger around in search of his prostate. When he finds it, Orange gives out a high whine, but stays still. His effort is almost commendable. His arms are flexing, his hands still under his head. Chuck almost wants to tell him to let go, so he doesn’t get a cramp or something, but he doesn’t see any signs of pain or displeasure in Orange’s face. 

He’ll take that as a compliment.

Finally, he adds a last, third finger and by now he’s getting impatient. He fucks them in and out of Orange a couple more times before he withdraws. Orange whimpers at the loss and Chuck has to bite back a hungry groan.

He lubes himself up and takes a moment to stroke himself. He hangs his head breathes deeply. Then, he lines up the head of his dick to Orange’s hole with one hand and lifts Orange’s leg onto his shoulder with the other.

“Open your eyes,” he says.

When he sinks into Orange, inch by inch, he sees the pleasure wash over Orange’s face, wave after wave. He picks up Oranges other leg, hangs it over his shoulder and bottoms out. He doesn’t give either of them the time to relish the moment and instead picks up a fast pace slamming into Orange. The staccato rocks Orange higher and higher up the bed, until Chuck has to change tactics or Orange’s head will knock against the headboard.

He gathers Orange up in his arms and sits back, still connected to him. The change of angle makes them both moan. Chuck scooches further up and guides Orange’s hands to the edge of the headboard above him.

“Hold tight,” he orders him, then grabs his ass in both hands and resumes his pace. Orange feels so fucking good around him. Warm and tight and made just for him. He leans down and bends Orange further in half to kiss him. It’s less of a kiss and more the occasional bite and breathing against each other’s mouths, but it’s all either can manage right now. It’s fantastic.

Chuck shifts their position a bit, so he can free one hand and grab Orange’s hair again. He is rewarded with a delighted moan and uses it to pull his head to the side to expose his jaw. He starts kissing him there and moves his hand back down to squeeze his ass. Orange clenches his walls around him and Chuck knows he won’t last much longer.

“I want to see you come on my dick,” he pants into Orange’s ear in rhythm with his thrusts. He shifts and makes sure to hit his prostate every time.

Orange comes shouting his name and pulls Chuck with him. Orange’s hands leave the headboard and his head drops onto Chucks shoulder, blissed out as Chuck hugs him close and fucks him through their orgasms. The sound of his moans, his scent, the _feeling_ of his body in Chucks arms is intoxicating, he doesn’t want this moment to end.

When the last shudder of pleasure has passed, Chuck lays Orange down gently on the mattress and pulls out. He goes into a bathroom and brings a damp washcloth. He cleans Orange and himself up and throws it back somewhere in the right direction, then lies down next to Orange with a grunt.

Orange throws an arm over his chest and tangles their legs together. He rests his head on Chuck’s shoulder and sighs contently.

Chuck moves one hand to rest on his waist, the other clasps Orange’s free hand. He presses a kiss on the crown of his head into his sweaty hair.

“You good?” he asks and feels a nod against him.

“We should this more often,” he continues. Orange looks up at him and smiles brilliantly.

“Yeah, we should.”


End file.
